Someone to save you
by poppiam
Summary: "You saved me Doc. Hope you know that. " He meant every single word. He owed Jo Manning his life. No question. He didn't know much about her. She didn't know much about him. It could have been the end of it but when someone saves your life, you're irremediably linked to theirs forever.
1. The first day of the rest of your life

**This is the teaser for a new story that has been playing in the back of my head for a while. I'm already on three stories so won't be updating this one as regularly. It's of course a Happy centric story which will have flashbacks of what happened before this chapter and of course what happens after it.**

**So read, enjoy and let me know what you think!**

**Someone to save you**

**- Teaser –**

**The first day of the rest of your life.**

Happy jolted awake, sweating and heaving. Chest pounding, he looked around, taking in his surroundings for a moment before realising where he was. _The screeching of tyres, those eyes...her eyes watching him her body upside down, held by the seat still strapped to her, her mouth murmuring words he'll never hear. And that smell...the overpowering, acrid smell of burnt rubber, spilled oil, and blood. He could still smell it as if it was still in the air. It never let him forget about that night, it was constantly with him. _He shook his head to chase the dark thoughts away and checked the alarm clock on the bedside. _Eight a.m. time to wake up anyway._

The first few weeks after the accident, he hadn't been able to find any rest, his nights filled with memories of that day running in a loop in his head. As his scars healed, as his body got better, so did his mind and he no longer spent entire nights awake wondering if he'll ever find peace again. Nowadays, he could actually manage a full night sleep from time to time.

He turned to get off the bed, the cold floor against his feet sending a shiver through his body. Using his hand to propel himself up, he stood up. The simple movement, which was once upon a time so easy he wouldn't have even though about it, was now laboured and slow. Gritting his teeth, he ignored the pain and took the few steps separating the bed from the bathroom. The room was still impersonal, he had brought very little with him. First of all because he didn't own much, he had never felt the need for more. As he saw it, the fewer shit you have, the easier it is for you to pick up and leave at a minute's notice. The second reason was that in the six months he had been here, he had refused to let himself get comfortable, refusing to think of this place as anything else that a temporary situation.

He walked into the shower and dropping his boxers to the floor, he turned on the water. For the next few minutes, he let the steaming water batter his body, his aching bones finding relief in the power shower. When he felt warm enough, he stepped out and reached for a towel. After patting his body dry, he wrapped the towel around his waist and made his way to the sink. Using the back of his hand, he wiped the mirror clearing the fogged up stea. He looked at his reflection almost with a certain sense of curiosity, almost as if the man staring back at him was someone he hadn't met. His fingers brushed the round scar on his chest as he had done every morning for the last six months. After almost 20 years spent in the MC, after serving in the Tacoma and the Nomads Charters and making unscathed, his state of grace had ended in Charming with the Redwood original charter when a bullet had found it's way into his chest before lodging itself a centimetre shy of his spinal cord. But it had only been the first of the chain of events that had led him to this place.

"Happy?" he heard a soft voice calling.

He felt a smile creep up his face. He loved hearing that voice say his name. He peered into the room and spotted Jo Manning, the woman he had to thank for being able to stand. She noticed him too and he saw her eyes take in his naked chest and the towel that did little to hide his intimacy. She spun around in a flash turning her back on him. "I'm so sorry" she blurted out. "I knocked and didn't get an answer."

"Don't worry about it Doc." He walked to the chest of drawers by the bed and took out a tee-shirt and boxers before slipping them on. Resting his body on the wall, he crossed his arms on his chest to look at her. She had her back to him but he could picture her rosy cheek aflame with embarrassment, and couldn't help a smile. "Were you worried I'd leave without saying goodbye or you just wanted to sneak a peek before I left?"

She scoffed and even with her back turned he could tell she was smiling. "You're enjoying embarrassing me, aren't you?"

"Don't know what you're talking about."

She turned her head, her hand hiding her eyes. "Are you decent now?" she pointedly asked before stealing a glance through her fingers. She saw his devious smile and dropped her hand, opening her eyes.

"Morning Doc."

It was something he had done ever since they'd met. Even after she had clarified that she was a physiotherapist and not a doctor, he had continued to call her Doc and it had stuck. She let out a little laugh, tilting her head to the side. "I'm going to miss you calling me that." she stated her voice barely above the whisper.

He stared at her, fully taking her in. _Jesus, she really is gorgeous. _And the worst thing was that she didn't even realise the effect she had on men. In the three months he had known her, he had only seen her wear make up once. She didn't have to; it almost hindered her beauty. Her classic features, perfect smooth porcelain skin, rosy cheeks, bright blue eyes that seemed to be perpetually smiling and full lips most women envied were counterbalanced by a mass of unruly curly blond hair that fell just above her waist. She would normally wear them in a side braid as to not get in her way but he had seen them cascading free once and had to stop himself from running his hand in them. She was wearing her usual blue scrubs that hid her petite frame showing little of the perfectly proportioned body she maintained thanks to a strict sport regimen necessary in her line of work. It was a body that begged to be explored, inch by inch, like an island hiding a treasure.

She fidgeted under his intense stare as she always did when she felt him inspecting her. "I was just coming to see if you were all set?"

The question brought him back to the reality of this day, a day he had been waiting for, _praying for_ in the last few months. "All set."

"Your ride will be here soon."

"Yeah. " It hadn't been a question, but he didn't know what else to say.

Jo knitted her brows and bit her lip. Something she did often and drove him crazy. "You're ready for this?"

He couldn't help but smile. "You worried about me doc?"

"You know I am."

"I'll be fine."

"This is serious Happy. You're still healing, You _have_ to take it slow. Don't go playing big badass biker just yet."

"Still bossing me around even today."

She let out a heartily laugh. "As if_ that_ was possible." She joked.

They fell silent, neither of them knowing what to say next, except goodbye. He took a few steps towards her, closing the gap between them, his massive body suddenly crowding her, her head barely reaching the base of his neck. Her smile faltered as she nervously looked up to him. She didn't step back though. She never had. Even at first when he'd tried to scare her into leaving him alone, she never even blinked. That had been new to him, most women he met were instantly scared of him and he had always liked it. But with Jo, no matter how hard he'd pushed, she had pushed back.

He raised his hand, caressing her cheek with his knuckles as she gazed into his eyes. "You saved me Doc. Hope you know that."

He meant every single word. This wasn't just some parting bullshit. He wasn't in the habit of saying shit he didn't mean. She _had_ saved him. Without her, Happy had no doubt in his mind that he would be dead. When she had entered his life, he had lost any hope of walking again, let alone ride and he knew he could not live a life without riding. Might as well be dead. He'd almost made a big mistake and given up when she opened his eyes and saved him in more way than one. He owed her his life and they both knew that.

"You did the work Happy."

"Couldn't have done it without you."

She grinned at him. "Sure you could have. It would have been a lot less fun without me yelling at you though."

They fell silent for a minute, their eyes still on each other until she looked down. "I should go. I have patients this morning."

"You should."

She didn't move though. Her eyes were still glued to the floor as if she was afraid of looking at him again. He hooked a finger on her chin and pulled up, forcing her to raise her eyes to him. "Look at me doc."

She did, and her eyes told him what he needed to know. She wanted this as much as he did. He leaned over and his mouth descended on hers. He had wanted to do this for six months, taste her, possess her mouth. He almost had a couple of months ago but she had made it clear that as long as he was a patient, she couldn't get involved. And now he was leaving, returning to his life in Charming and he would be hours away from her. But he still had to kiss her. At least once.

He wasn't surprised when she opened her mouth, welcoming his tongue. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer as she brushed her soft hand to his face. She smelled nice, she always did. It was a pleasant, heady aroma, not the usual girly fruity shit girls usually covered themselves in. No, this was musky and subtle, almost like a man's perfume but not quite. He had always wanted to ask her about it, but never had.

As their tongue melted together, he heard her moan in pleasure and it took all he had not to push her onto his bed and take her, like he had dreamed of doing so many times over the course of the last few months. He knew that he had to let her go or he wouldn't be able to stop himself. He pulled away, resting his forehead on hers and touching the tip of nose, "You be good, Jo."

Her hands still locked around his neck, she grinned. "You never called me that."

"I know."

"You be good too, Happy." She stood on her toes and quickly kissed his lips again and offering him one last smile before hurrying out.

**So? What did you think? Should I make into a full story?**


	2. Beef or Salmon?

_To thank you for the fantastic response on the first chapter of this story I decided to post this chapter. Like I said, I'm on three other stories as well, so updates won't necessarily be as regular as the others but I will keep working on it on the side!_

_Thanks for all the reviews, follows and favorites and I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as you did the first._

**Chapter II **

**Beef or Salmon?**

This was her second date with the man and she found herself wishing she had trusted her first instinct and declined. Daniel Talbot was an accountant for some investment firm and he was just another version of the guy she'd dated before him, and the one before that and so on. Handsome guys with a steady career, a car and nice bank account who dreamed of meeting a good Christian woman to give them the 2.5 kids and the white picket fenced house society told them they needed. The kind of men who judged people based on how they dressed and who believed happiness could be defined by how many dollars you held in your bank account.

On paper, they had a lot in common with Jo. Same social background, same education. But in reality, she usually found she shared little with those men. She wanted to meet someone who challenged her, someone who didn't look like he was ticking items out of a checklist when he spoke to her. She wanted to be with someone who wouldn't look at her condescendingly when she told them she didn't like the opera or classical music or five star hotels and that her idea of a nice evening was a beer and a steak topped with a reading session on her couch.

Th other reason she wasn't enjoying herself was that as misguided and naïve as it sounded, she believed in passion, More than anything, she wanted someone who made her heart race, someone who could be happy with spending a day in bed with her and not need anything else, someone who could make her feel wanted with a look, a smile. The way _he_ had.

Yet with all the men she seemed to meet, she had never felt any of that. She had never even felt the slightest spark, or the beginning of an interest. The men didn't seem that interested either. She didn't know if it said more about her or about the friends that kept setting her up with those guys. Maybe she was the problem, maybe she was asking too much. Maybe she needed to compromise. Maybe at thirty two years old, she was getting too old to be picky.

"So what do you think? Beef or Salmon?"

She looked up, having no idea of what her date had been talking about. He was so engrossed in the menu that he didn't even notice she wasn't following. "I think I'm going to take the salmon."

"Sure, I'll try that too." She replied dismissively.

_God, my goldfish has a more interesting conversation that this man_. She knew she was being unfair. She had been preoccupied all night not even bothering to make an effort to fuel the conversation. But she couldn't help it, she felt like she was wasting her time once again. As she watched him order for the both of them, her mind went back to a similar date she had had a couple of months ago, with a car dealer a friend of hers had thought smart to set her up with. What was his name again? Sean? Scott? She shuddered as she remembered how boring the night had been. Awkward at the best of times, but mostly it had been downright painful. The conversation had dried up after the first five minutes and the man had spent the rest of the evening bragging about his quick ascension to best salesmen of his dealership and trying to convince her to exchange her old impala for a monster SUV.

After an excruciating three hours, he had finally agreed to drive her back to her car which she had left at the physical rehab center where he'd picked her up from.

_**********SOA**********_

He walked around the car and opened the passenger door so she could step out. He had finally stopped talking to her about cars which she was very grateful for. There was a reason she had had her impala since her college days. She didn't care about cars. Not even a little. As long as it drove her from point A to point B, she couldn't care less about the matter. The last thing she ever wanted to do on a Friday night was to hear a three hour sales speech about cars.

The parking lot was empty at that hour and her old chevy was parked on the far end, where the employees spaces were.

"My car is on the other side." She started.

She was about to wish him a good night when he spoke."I'll walk you."

She hesitated but didn't want to spend another five minutes discussing it so she agreed. "Oh, okay then."

"You know Jo, I have had a great evening with you tonight. We should do it again sometimes."

Jo couldn't help an incredulous look. Was he serious? Had he been sitting at the same table as her for the last three hours? She cleared her throat. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?"

She hated that part. She never quite knew what to say. And obviously_ because my sofa has better conversations skills than you do_ wouldn't be very polite. "I'm not sure I'm what you're looking for."

"Well, you have a pulse don't you?" He laughed at his own joke and even his laugh grated her.

They finally got to her car and she put a contrived smile on her face. "I think it's probably best if we keep it at that."

"Your loss, I'm a guy you have to get to know to like."

She didn't want to get to know him. In fact, the only thing she wanted was to get as far away from him as possible. She took out her car keys from her purse as he closed the distance between them, blocking her against her car door. "How about a goodnight kiss?"

He really didn't want to get the message did he? "Look, I'm not interested ok?"

He slid his fingers in her hair trying to pull her head to him. "Come on, just a little kiss."

She pushed his hand away with force. "I said no."

His face suddenly contorted in anger as he took one step further towards her.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, shithead".

Jo recognized the husky voice straight away. It was a voice she had gotten to know very well in the last few months. A voice that always put a smile on her face those days, even though she wouldn't dare admit so. She turned to see Happy Lowman in a wife beater showing off his muscular frame, balancing his leg on his crutches as he calmly smoked a cigarette. There was something very eerie in that vision. But he wasn't looking at her. Right now, his eyes were glaring at her date with an intensity that would send a shiver down most people's spine.

"Who are you?"

"Doesn't matter, asshole. You've got five minutes to leave before I use those crutches to rip you the fuck apart."

If it had been anybody else, Jo's date might have dismissed the danger considering the man doing the threatening was walking in crutches. But Happy had such a calm yet menacing presence, he just couldn't be ignored. His dark brown eyes were drilling holes into the man, the muscles on his neck were twitching with tension as his dark tattoos buldged under the wife beater he wore. If she hadn't known him, she_ would_ be scared.

The man let out a nervous snigger and waved his hands dismissively. "I don't need this shit."

Jo watched him walk away with a sense of relief as she made her way to Happy, giving him a tired smile. "Thanks." She let out a sigh. "Think I can bum a cigarette?"

Without answering, he took one out from his pocket, handing it to her before lighting his lighter. She bent towards the flame moving her hair out of the way and took a big drag before looking up at him.

He cocked an eyebrow. "You know, you should probably stop dating dicks." he chastised.

She suddenly felt like a teenager being told off by her father. She grinned. "Yeah, you're probably right."

"I'm serious."

She let out a cloud of smoke and titled her head. "So what type of guys do you suggest I date?"

"The kind that knows how to treat a bitch."

She couldn't help a snigger. "You know where I come from, most women take offense to being called a bitch."

"Where I come from men don't force themselves on women."

That comment wiped the smile off her face. They both knew that there was a big chance that if Happy hadn't been there, tonight might have ended up in a totally different way. He took a step forward and raised his hands tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear. "You deserve better Doc."

As he gently caressed her face with the tips of his fingers, she closed her eyes and almost gasped at the sensations she was experiencing through a simple touch. She opened her eyes and took a deep breath, closing her hand on his, removing it from her face. They both acknowledged the growing attraction they had been feeling towards each other in the last few weeks. It had been in every look they shared, every touch, every word they said to each other. It was in the way they could sit in comfortable silence without any awkwardness, in the way they didn't have to pronounce the words to know what the other one was thinking. But here tonight, she needed to say the words out loud so she was sure he heard them as much as she would. "I can't get involved with you Happy." she murmured, her voice lacking conviction.

She would never get involved with a patient. She had worked too hard to get where she was and she would never jeopardize that. Besides, she lived in Oregon and he lived in California and even if he stopped being her patient, he would move back to his life as soon as he was released and in all likelihood she'd never hear from him again.

He was still staring at her with an intensity that she'd never seen anywhere else. "I know."

She had a weak smile. "I should go. Goodnight Happy."

As she got to her car, he called out to her. "Hey doc?" He waited for her to turn around before continuing with suggestive smile. "Is it inappropriate if I say I like the dress?"

She laughed and he looked at her with a satisfied smile as she stepped into her car; it was the reaction he had been looking for.

_**********SOA**********_

Jo let out a sigh of relief when her date pulled in front of her house. She turned to him and she realised from the look on his face that he knew what was coming."I'm not getting a third date, am I?"

"I'm sorry." Before she realised it, she was speaking again. "Truth is, there's someone else. I shouldn't have agreed to go out with you again, I just... I was wrong."

"No apologies needed. I got to spend the evening with a gorgeous woman."

"Thanks Daniel."

She stepped out of the car and was pleasantly surprised when he waited as she went up her stairs and unlocked her door. She waved at him and he finally drove off. She locked behind her and laid her head on the door, her mind going back to what she'd told him. _There's someone else._

She had refused to admit it until tonight. It was futile. He was gone. He was back in California, probably fucking every willing girl he could find and she got the feeling that they were plenty while she was here in Oregon, thinking about him. She had done her best to avoid thinking about it. But the few times she had let herself go there, she remembered how astonished she had been by the passion with which his mouth had taken possession of hers and even more so by the burning feeling she had in the pit of her stomach when he did. She found herself aching for his touch on her skin, in her hair.

She took off her shoes with a pensive sigh and let them fall by the door not even bothering to pick them up. She went straight for the kitchen and took out a bottle of white wine from the fridge pouring herself what the British called a large glass and pretty much looked like a bowl to anyone else. She had a few sips before zipping off her dress and dropping it on the living room floor. She would be ashamed to admit it, but ever since he had told her how he liked the dress, it had become her favorite. It sounded so pathetic when she thought about it. A man gives her a fabulous kiss and some attention and she couldn't stop thinking about him.

She walked into the bathroom, took off her bra and panties and went to take a shower. For a few minutes as the water battered her body, she tried but failed to stop thinking about him. By admitting to her date that there was someone in her life, it was like she'd opened Pandora 's Box and Happy popped out. And right now, he was stubbornly refusing to return in it.

She turned off the water and wrapped herself in a robe. Walking back into her bedroom, she opened her dresser and pulled cotton panties and a satin nightdress. As she slipped into it, her eyes fell on the top drawer. It was the one where she kept her most personal belongings. Her mother's wedding ring, her valedictorian speech, her first communion pendant cross, family pictures. Everything that meant something to her was stored in this place. She pulled it open and lightly brushed a piece of paper with her fingers. She took it out in her hand and unfolded it.

It was a drawing of her. A more beautiful and perfected version of her but still, it was her face. Her flaws had been nicely left out and every nice feature had been magnified. It was truly beautiful. She hadn't found it straight away. It was only when she's folded her scrubs to take them to the dry cleaner a couple of days after Happy left that the paper had dropped on the floor. She'd opened it and it had taken her breath away. He had told her he had designed all of his tattoos so she knew he was talented, she just had no idea how much. The drawing was so refined, so perfected. Below her face he had simply written a telephone number, his she guessed with a few simple words _if you ever need anything._

He had been gone a month and she hadn't found the nerve to use it. Not that she didn't think about it. She did. Most nights to be honest. No one had ever kissed her quite like he did that day. It had radiated through her entire body and if it hadn't been for the fact that she was in her place of work, it would have definitely gone further.

Every time she looked at the beautiful portrait he'd made of her, she found herself wondering if that was the Jo he saw. She knew he was attracted to her but some part of her had just wanted to believe he mostly liked_ the idea_ of her, someone forbidden to him, someone he couldn't have, someone who didn't instantly fall into his bed. But other times especially when she stared at the drawing, she could almost believe he was genuinely into her. She definitely _wanted_ to believe it.

And the truth was that she missed him. She missed him more than she'd care to admit. She wanted to hear his voice. The part of him she preferred. His deep husky voice. As she bit on her bottom lip, she suddenly felt like a teenager. A very horny teenager. She walked back into the living room hurriedly and after downing her glass of wine to summon her courage, she reached for her phone and nervously dialed his number. He picked up at the third tone.

"Yeah?"

She could hear shouts, giggles and loud old school metal music behind him.

"Who is this?" he growled into the phone.

"It's me Hap. Jo."

He took a pause before responding. "Hold on."

She heard him moving and the music became fainter until she could barely make it out. "I'm with you Doc. Everything okay?"

He sounded worried as she suddenly felt very stupid for calling like that on a Friday night. She almost cringed as she replied. "Yeah, I just... I wanted to see how you're doing?" It was only partially a lie. She had wanted to hear his voice which is why she called but she _did_ want to know how he was.

"Worried about me Doc?" he asked in a playful tone. It was like a running joke between them. She'd ask about him and he'd mock her concern. He took a breath before adding "I took my first ride today."

It was big deal. No, it was a_ huge _deal. Six months ago, the man was lying in a bed with little hope to ever walk again. Now he was riding his bike again which she knew was the most important thing for him. "That's fantastic Happy!"

"Thanks doc. It was only a short ride though."

"You still on your program?"

"You know it."

"What about the diet? You know it's very impo..."

"Jo. I'm on it." He interrupted. He knew how to play her. He knew calling her Jo would shut her up. "How are _you_ doing?"

She thought about her response for a moment. "Just came back from a date."

It took him a little while to answer and when he did she could tell by his tone that he didn't like it. "Any good?"

"No, it was pretty bad."

She heard a soft chuckle and wished she could see his expression right now. "Told you, you should stop dating dicks."

She chuckled softly "Yeah, I probably should."

"Did you wear the red dress?"

She scoffed "I'm not answering that!"

"I like that dress on you. I don't really like anyone else seeing you in it though."

She felt herself blushing as she reacted to his words…_down there._ How was it that that man could get such a reaction hundreds of miles away? And that she actually liked the fact that he was possessive of her in some way? "Can I ask you something, Happy?"

"What is it?"

"You remember that night, the night I came back to the centre to get my car?

He paused again as if he knew what she was coming at. "I remember."

"Were you waiting for me to come back?"

"Yeah."

She'd been suspecting he had but had never dared to ask him. She didn't know why, maybe because she didn't want him to say he hadn't and she was just imagining things. Before she could stop the words out of her mouth, she heard herself talk again. "I miss you"

He didn't respond for a while and she almost thought he'd hung up."You too doc."

"You should get back to your party. Goodnight Happy."

**_Thanks for reading and as always any and all feedback welcome!_**


	3. How about some plain fucking English?

**Chapter III **

**How about some plain fucking English?**

Happy watched as the croweater gathered the clothes strewn out across the floor and hurriedly put them on. She was one of his regular and knew that he didn't like it when bitches lingered in his bedroom after a fuck. He lit a cigarette as she pulled her halter top over her head. She took her shoes in her hand and dared a small wave as she opened the door. "Bye Happy."

He didn't bother acknowledging her and she left without another word. He exhaled a long cloud of smoke and checked the clock on the bedside table. It was past one am. Still early for him. He would probably go back to the bar and down a few more drinks, maybe kick one of the prospects ass in a pool game before calling it a night. He might even squeeze in another round with a croweater. He tried to tell himself it was too late to be calling her, that she was probably asleep but in the end, he didn't care. He wanted to hear her voice.

He stood up, pulling up his boxers and walked to the far corner of his room where he'd left his cut. He took out his pre-pay and flipped it open, dialing the number he knew by heart before sitting back on the bed.

She picked up after a couple of rings. "Hi."

Her voice was sleepy but he could still hear the smile in it. He quickly pictured her in her bed naked, even though he had no idea what she slept in. More to the point, he clearly pictured all the things he'd be doing to her if he'd been in that bed. He pushed those thoughts aside. "Hey Doc. Did I wake you?"

"It's okay. I was hoping you'd call tonight."

"You alone?"

She didn't answer straight away. "Do you have to ask?"

He felt himself smile. He couldn't remember the last time he let a girl he'd fucked stay in his bed longer than five minutes after he was finished and here he was, having phone conversations with some chick he never even fucked. A bitch that was clearly messing with his head as the very though that she might be sharing her bed with someone else made his stomach turn.

Since she had called him out of the blue a couple of weeks before, they'd taken the habit of calling each other every couple of days. They just checked in, mostly talking crap. She asked how he was and then nagged about his rehabilitation program or told him off when she thought he was trying to do too much, too soon. He would usually shut her up by changing the subject and asking about her day. And she'd tell him even though she saw right through his distraction tactics.

He had started to really look forward to those calls. He liked talking to her. Or at least not being much of a talker himself, he liked to hear her talk to him. He had spent a lot of time with her during his stay at the Norwood physical rehabilitation center and he hadn't realised how much he'd miss her once he left. After they'd kissed, he had left it in her court to contact him if she wanted but he had to admit he'd been surprised when she did. He hadn't expected to ever hear from her again.

Happy knew who he was, what he did. He knew what people saw when they looked at him. He didn't give a shit about it either. He was realistic to the fact that girls like Jo didn't usually go for guys like him. Just as guys like him didn't go for girls like her, no matter how hot they might be. It just wasn't worth the trouble. It was different for someone like Jax. Him and his old lady had known each other since they were kids. She knew who he was, what the club was from the beginning. She had all the facts from the get go.

Happy didn't talk about the club much with Jo. She knew he was part of a motorcycle club and she knew he had done time in prison but that was about it. She didn't know more and she didn't ask for it. He liked that about her. He liked that she wasn't scared of him, but still respected him. He liked that she understood him enough not to ask questions he didn't want to answer. At first, he'd thought that his interest might have been some fucked up gratitude trip on his part because of what she did for him. She'd helped him through some dark shit and truthfully, he_ was_ grateful to her. He knew for a fact that he'd be dead if it wasn't for her. Plain and simple. He had told her that. But it wasn't the reason he was calling her at one am in the morning. He called her because she meant something to him.

It wasn't a conclusion he'd reached lightly. He didn't do that. He didn't get attached. He never let bitches into his life because there wasn't any room for them. The club came first. Always. And then family, his mother, his aunt. He didn't have time for anyone else. He'd also never met anyone who made him want to make room. Until now. Until her. For some reason he had yet to figure out, she was just different to him. She wasn't just another bitch he wanted to fuck. Although he very much wanted to do that. Repeatedly. He wanted more. He wanted her to be his. He didn't know how that worked in his life but he wanted her.

"How was your day Doc?"

"Today was a good day. Viper left the center."

Viper was a Harley lover who was trying to live life on the wild side. He'd lost a limb when he dumped his Dyna on the highway and slid under a car. He had tirelessly tried to befriend Happy during his stay, doing his head in with bike talk and begging Happy to tattoo him. He crossed the line when he shared the details of his hard-on for Jo in graphic details. Happy had threatened to use his tattoo gun on his face and Viper wisely understood it was in his best interest to avoid Hap after that, making him wish he'd used his usual methods sooner.

"No shit."

"The nurses practically threw a party. His wandering hand was getting out of control."

Happy felt himself tense at the thought of that dickhead trying to touch Jo.

He heard her take a breath before asking "How are you Hap?"

He thought about it for a second. Truth was the last few days had been particularly painful. He'd gone on a run to Fresno with the club and he was still paying the price for it. But he also knew what the doctors had said. He could be feeling the pain in his lower back for the rest of his life. It would gradually get better, but it would never subside completely. The strain on his cord had probably knocked a good ten years out of his riding life. There would come a time for him to step down, but thanks to Jo Manning, that time wasn't now. The pain, it was just there to remind him of that.

_**********SOA**********_

The first thing he remembered from that day was the throbbing sound of the machine next to him blipping rhythmically. The next thing he remembered was the gagging reflect he felt when he realised he had a tube running down his throat. He tried to open his eyes but didn't seem to be able to move his eyelids. He felt himself move his fingers and tried to lift his hand to remove that thing from his mouth but it was as if his hand weighted a ton and he couldn't move it. He heard movement next to him.

"He's coming to!"

He knew he recognized the voice but couldn't quite place it. Happy heard shuffling inside the room and he felt a cold hand on his face, lifting his eyelid and was blinded by the harsh light of a torch pen.

"Mr. Lowman, my name is Doctor Langdon, can you hear me?" The man enunciated before moving onto the other eye. "You are at Southwestern General Hospital. You had an accident. The tube you feel down your throat was there to help you to breathe. We are going to remove it now, okay? Don't fight it alright? When I tell you, I want you to take a deep breath. Try to blink twice if you heard me. "

It took a huge effort for Happy to blink but after a minute, he finally managed to.

The doctor continued. "Excellent. Alright, now on my count, 1,2,3."

As he had been told, Happy took a deep breath and within seconds, he felt the tube being lifted out of his throat. He coughed a little and straight away a nurse was offering him some water with a straw. His throat was sore and incredibly dry and he welcomed the cold liquid. It gave him a chance to look around him. The room was packed with three nurses, the doctor, a tall and skinny man in his mid thirties with glasses that seemed to be too big for his face and Kozik standing over his bed looking at him with immense concern in his eyes.

"Alright Mr. Lowman. I'm going to ask you a few questions now, don't try and talk, okay? Just blink once for no, twice for yes alright? Are you ready? Do you remember what happened to you?"

Happy remembered being on the road, he was on his way to Tacoma. He remembered taking over the black SUV. He remembered the woman driving the SUV. He remembered the sound of the gun. Now what was it the doctor said again? Happy knew it was simple information but he had to make an effort to remember. Once for no, twice for yes. He blinked twice.

"Fantastic. Now Mr. Lowman. There's someone you know next to me. Do you recognize him?

The doctor looked over at Kozik who was standing up next to him. "Mr. Lowman?"

Again, Happy played along and blinked twice.

"Perfect. You're in good hands Mr. Lowman, we are going to take good care of you."

Happy had to ask. There was probably a perfectly good explanation to what he was feeling but he needed to ask the doctor. He opened his mouth several times before he was able to make a sound."My legs" he heard himself say in a voice even more raspy than his usual deep husky tone. He watched as the blood drained out of Kozik's face when he heard the words Happy was struggling to pronounce. "My legs. I can't feel my legs."

"Mr. Lowman, try and relax. Your body's been through a harrowing trauma, you need to rest so we can help you."

"Tell me." He hadn't looked at the doctor when he'd said that. He had looked straight into Kozik's eyes. The blond biker and him had gone through a lot of crazy shit over the years and he knew he would be straight with him.

"Mr. Lowman..."

Kozik ran his hand over his face. He looked tired. "Tell him." He cut in.

"Really, I don't…"

"Tell him." There was no mistaking that this was an order and Kozik expected the man to comply with it.

The doctor took a breath and looked at Happy dead in the eyes as he looked for the right words to give his prognosis. His bedside manners were impeccable but no matter how many times you went through it, delivering this kind of news never got any easier. "Mr. Lowman, you have sustained some extensive injuries during your… accident. "

"Bullet?" Happy managed to ask

"The gun shot wound to your chest was only part of the problem. We were able to remove the bullet without causing any permanent damage to the spinal cord however the shock from the car you hit added to the surgery has caused some extensive swelling of the tissue surrounding your spinal cord, which in turn is compressing your vertebrae. "

Kozik let out a frustrated sigh before interrupting again "He just woke up from a three day coma Doc. How about some plain fucking English?"

The doctor flicked his eyes to Kozik who nodded at him. He looked back at Happy "Mr. Lowman, we won't know how permanent the damage is until the swelling goes down but you are suffering from lower limb paralysis. You're…paralyzed from the waist down. "

The words took a second to reach Happy, it took him another second to process them and what they meant. The last thing Happy remembered before being sedated again was trashing in his bed while Kozik and the doctor struggled to calm him down.

_**********SOA**********_

"What's your pain level?"

She always asked. Early in their "relationship", they had devised a pain scale and everyday she's asked him how the pain was.

"5."

"Liar."

He chuckled. She always called him up on his bullshit. He liked that she worried about him and that she knew him well enough to tell when he was lying. And much as she had gotten to know him during his time at Norwood, he had also gotten to know her. He knew she cared. Sometimes more than he could explain, certainly more than she should. He also knew she was focusing on him so she wouldn't ask the questions she really wanted to ask. The truth was he didn't have the answers she was probably looking for. He didn't know what the hell was going on between them. All he knew is he couldn't get her out of his head and he missed the shit out of her.

"You need to take care of yourself Happy."

He decided to tease her a little. "Maybe you should come down here and take care of me Doc."

She didn't respond which wasn't usual. She would always take the bait when he teased her. He heard her breathe through the receiver and he could just about see her deep in thoughts, a millions questions eating at her."You can ask Jo."

She remained silent for a moment. He didn't try to fill the silence. He wasn't any good at it and with her He never had. "No. At some point I am going to have questions on what's going here but not today. Today I just… I don't want to talk about it. Just keep talking to me, Happy.

**Once again, thanks for the incredible response to this story. You guys humble me!**

**Next Chapter will delve into Happy and Jo's history through flashbacks…**

**As always comments and feedback are always welcome!**


	4. What's the worst that can happen?

**Chapter IV – What's the worst that can happen?**

**DAY 1**

Jo wasn't sure what grabbed her attention. It had been a regular team meeting, the kind she only listened to with one ear open. Admin was never really her strong suit. In fact, she could have done without ever having to sit through a two hour meeting rehashing all of their patient's cases and treatment plans. She would much rather spend those two hours _actually _treating a patient. Graeme Jennings, Norwood physical center's director and Jo's boss liked to call her an idealist. Usually during her performance reviews at year end.

But something about this case had her looking up and actively listening. As Graeme explained, the guy was a transfer, a biker suffering from lower limb paralysis. Bikers were common stock in Norwood. A wrong turn, a wrong decision on the road usually had dire consequences for motorcycle enthusiasts. The ones who ended up here were ironically lucky. But what was curious about this particular case was the type of injury itself. It was an incomplete, which meant the doctors could not actually say if the paralysis was permanent. They didn't usually see those cases in Norwood. The center was renown in the West Coast for specializing in the most serious injuries. Quadriplegics, tetraplegics, severed limbs, degenerative illnesses that would ultimately result in muscle atrophy and often paralysis. Their role in their patient's rehabilitation was to return them to their highest level of functioning and unfortunately too often that meant helping patients communicate again or simply use the bathroom on their own.

But according to his file, this guy, this biker wasn't a lost cause. He had spent three weeks at Southwestern General in Sacramento after his accident receiving anti-inflammatory treatment which had significantly reduced the swelling around his spine. It was still too early to say if the injuries were reversible but with the right treatment plan, with the right therapist, there was a good chance he could regain some if not full use of his lower limbs. She straightened up on her chair and cleared her throat. "I don't get it. What is he doing here? His injuries could be handled in other facilities."

Graeme's eyes found her and he looked almost surprised to see she was actually listening. "He's been at California Pacific for the last week. He hasn't really been… cooperative."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning he is resisting treatment." He blurted out frustrated "Look folks, I'm not going to sugar coat it. He is aggressive and has threatened violence towards the staff several times. They've had to restrain him a few times. Pacific want him out and they're looking at us to take him in because we have more experience dealing with difficult cases. "

One of the therapists cackled. "Yeah, I bet they jumped at the opportunity to get rid of that one."

Another one chimed in. "Did they get a psych eval?"

Graeme wanted to be honest with his staff and let them know exactly what they were in for if they took the case. "Didn't do any good. He threatened to get the psych killed if he came near him ever again." There were a few nervous chuckles in the room before Graeme continued. "I know this isn't the easiest case but this is what we do people. It's not the first time we have to deal with an angry depressed patient."

"Doesn't mean we have to take everyone else's."

Graeme raised his hands in surrender "If no one is willing to take the case, then I guess we'll just say no. They can find him another facility. "

Jo quickly scanned the room. In addition to her and Graeme, there were eleven other therapists in the room and all of them were currently looking anywhere but at Graeme. After what they'd heard, she couldn't say she was surprised. But something about this case called out to her. Maybe it was the challenge, maybe it was because for once she wanted to make a real difference, or maybe she was just being a naïve idealist. Probably all of the above, if she was honest but that didn't stop her from speaking up. "I'll take it."

She watched as twelve bodies shifted towards her as one, eyes watching her with a mixture of surprise, horror and amusement.

Jo liked the people she worked with. Truly. They were solid, good people. But sometimes, they underestimated the hell out of her. Maybe it was her petite frame or the fact she spoke with a soft low voice, or maybe it was what most people kept calling her angelic face and her baby blond hair which made her some fragile little thing in people's mind. She was used to people making a lot of assumptions about what she could or could not handle. But it still annoyed her. "Alright guys, enough with the surprised looks. It's offending."

Graeme raised his eyebrows and asked. "Are you sure you want to take this on?"

"Positive. I mean, what's the worst that can happen?"

He shrugged in response. If she wanted the case so bad, who was he to argue with her. "Alright then. Happy Lowman is all yours."

*******SOA*******

**DAY 2**

Jo stood in the long corridor facing room seventy four which would be Happy Lowman's room until he left the center. She was suddenly quite nervous about it all and started to wonder if maybe she had made a mistake agreeing to take on this case. She had spent the evening last night, thinking through the appropriate treatment plan but she wouldn't actually be able to bed it down until she met the man.

He had arrived from Pacific a couple of hours before. She had been working with a patient but she had seen him being wheeled in by an orderly. He had looked… terrifying. She could tell he was very tall; he looked awkward, almost too big for the chair. His head was bold and adorned a tattoo she couldn't really make out from where she was standing. He'd been wearing jeans and a hoodie and held what looked like a leather jacket on his knees . But what had stricken her most was how much he conveyed simply with his face. As far form him as she had been, she could still see it. The quiet fury, the rage waiting on the surface for the right moment to explode. It had been in his dark brown eyes, in his furrowed eyebrows, in the way he clenched his jaws accentuating his high cheekbones. He was a scary presence. New patients arrived at Norwood every day but somehow as Happy Lowman was being wheeled to his room, it seemed like the whole center came to halt as if they knew better than to be in this man's way.

Jo took a deep breath and took a few steps towards the room. The door was open but she knocked anyway before letting herself in. He was lying down in bed, eyes drilling into the ceiling. He had taken off his hoodie, leaving him in a white tee shirt which hang into his body like a glove and revealed chiseled muscular arms which were covered in tattoos up to his wrists. The leather jacket she had noticed earlier which was actually more of a vest was resting on a chair. She examined it quickly, taking in the reaper sewed on the back with the words SONS OF ANARCHY, CALIFORNIA. As she went back to her inspection of him, she noticed the sheets were bunched up in his hands so hard his knuckles were almost white in stark contrast with his skin.

She knew he had heard her coming into the room but he had yet to acknowledge her presence. He hadn't moved a single muscle; he hadn't so much as glanced in her direction. He was truly ignoring her. _Well, you did ask for it girl. _She decided it was time for her to introduce herself. "Mr. Lowman, welcome to Norwood. I'm Jo Manning. I'm one of the head therapists. My team and I will be working with you going forward.

Her "team" consisted of Jackie Lorner, a rehabilitation nurse who was a no non-sense woman with over twenty years experience under her belt who would be in charge of coordinating Happy's daily schedule and provide him with direct care. A doctor would come twice a week but Jackie would administer medication, perform the vitals checks and care of his still healing wounds. She was qualified to provide counseling to patients, but somehow Jo didn't think there'd be much of that involved here. The second member of her team was Samson Jones, an occupational therapist with whom Jo had started her career at Norwood and who was one of her closest friends. Samson was a two hundred and forty pound giant with a marked southern accent who had played full back for Notre Dame before his career was cut short but a nasty knee injury. But as he liked to say, _when God shuts a door, he opens a window_ and after being inspired by his rehabilitation team during his recovery, he had found his calling. His role was to teach patients self care and everything they needed to know for daily living. Jo was a physical therapist and headed the team. She would be in charge of the treatment plan for the physical part. The three of them had worked together for years and although each had an important part to play, the most important part of a patient's recovery was the patient himself and something about this guy's demeanor told Jo he wasn't about to make it easy for her.

Jo waited for him to finally say or do something to show he had actually heard her but he remained in the exact same position. The only proof the man lying in the bed was alive and well was the fact that he was blinking steadily. She took a step further into the room and she was finally able to see what was tattooed on his head. It was a snake. _Charming_. "Mr. Lowman?"

"What the fuck do you want?" he blurted, his voice deep and raspy.

_Hum, I guess that's something. _Jo thought to herself before responding"Like I said, I'm Jo Manning, I'm here to help you work on your recovery."

"Why did they bring me here?"

"You mean in Norwood? Well, I'm guessing that might have something to do with you threatening to kill your doctor and his whole family. It mayhave put a dump on his willingness to help you. So before you go ahead and threaten my family, I have to warn you that both my parents are dead and I'm an only child. So now that we got this out of the way, maybe we can concentrate on what's important here." She had intended it as a joke but it fell flat.

Again, it took a moment to get a reaction from him. "Get the fuck out." He growled.

This was not going well at all. She sighted. "Mr. Lowman…"

"I said get the fuck out."

He didn't raise his voice as he said it but there was no mistaking the finality of his tone. She wasn't going to get anywhere with him today. That much was clear. If she ever wanted to get through to him, she was going to have to take it one step at a time with him. "Tell you what. Why don't you rest today and I'll come back tomorrow."

She turned on her heels trying to control the feeling of failure she felt washing over her and walked out. As she reached the door, she heard his coarse voice. "Don't bother." She stopped and looked back at him. He still hadn't moved an inch. She wasn't even sure he had been addressing her. She exited and bumped smack into Samson. She gave him a pointed look as they moved away from the room.

"Eavesdropping now?"

"Saw him come in earlier. They weren't kidding at Pacific. Thought you might need some back up."

"I was fine, but thanks."

"Yeah, from what I heard, it went really well."

She rolled her eyes. "I wasn't exactly expecting a warm and fuzzy hug." She truly hadn't. She hadn't expected to be kicked out of there so unceremoniously but she had known it wasn't going to be easy. The visit had been about sizing him up and deciding how much of a challenge he was going to be. She had to establish a rapport, understand how to handle him before she could even begin to think about sharing her treatment plan with him which was why she had gone in the room on her own.

"We can still say no, Jo. Send him back to his family. Let _them_ deal with it."

He was riling her, and they both knew it. "I'm not giving up Sam. For once, we have a chance to make a real difference."

"And here I was, thinking we did that every day." He smirked.

"You know what I mean. He could walk again."

"You realise the chances of that happening are very slim."

She stopped walking and grabbed his arm. "But there's still a chance."

"Not if he keeps refusing treatment."

"I'll get to him Samson. I just need a little time."

"Man's got a fucking snake tattooed on his head. He's bad ass, sister. Not sure that's the kind of guy you want to _get_ to."

"He doesn't scare me."

"Maybe he should. Look I get it Jo, you want to help, you want to make a difference or whatever. All I'm saying is you can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved. "

She felt a smile creep up her face and wriggled her eyebrows at him. "Oh Samson, he wants to be saved. He just doesn't know it yet."

*******SOA*******

**DAY 5**

_Stubborn, rude, backwards, macho asshole! _Jo punched the bag and it went flying only to come back towards her with the same speed. She was so angry… no actually she was _furious_. Happy Lowman had been at Norwood for four days and she hadn't made any progress with him. Every day without a fault, she would walk into his room and every day without a fault he would be kicking her out within minutes. He hadn't been out of his room since he'd arrived. He was refusing the food, refusing to participate in any of the group activities and of course he was also refusing any physical therapy. The only people who had been able to come within two feet of him were the orderlies who helped him with the bathroom and hygiene and her nurse Jackie. Jo wasn't sure what his problem was but she knew she was losing her patience and had to use a lot of self control not to deviate from the professional and pleasant side she usually found so easy to keep, which was why she had found refuge in the gym and was currently exacting revenge on a punching bag.

She had taken up kickboxing about a year ago. In addition to her daily five miles routine, it helped her to keep in shape but she had quickly realised that it was also a great outlet for her frustrations. As she punched the bag again, she heard the door to the gym open and watched Samson make his way towards her, nonchalantly holding his work bag over his shoulder. He had been the one who introduced her to this old, smelly gym located barely five minutes from the center and she had fell in love with it.

"You know, most people go out on a Saturday night, get drunk, have fun maybe get some freak on."

"Really? How long have you known me?"

"Good point." he threw his bag to the floor as he steadied the punching bag which was still flying sideways. "Heard what happened today."

Of course he did. Only fast thing in Norwood was the speed at which gossip travelled.

*******SOA*******

Saturdays at the center was family day. Jo had decided she'd give Happy some breathing room today after trying to get through to him for four days. She also had to admit that she was curious to see if anyone would visit him. Normally, families are an important part of the patient recovery but this wasn't anything but a normal case. Aside from the fact that he was part of a motorcycle club and the circumstances of his accident, she didn't know a single thing about him, so she wasn't sure what to expect.

She had been in the break room reading an article when she'd heard the deafening roar of motorcycles. She'd walked to the window and watched as six bikers dismounted their perfectly lined bikes. She wasn't sure what she'd expected but that was definitely not it. As they made their way to the front doors of the center, she noticed the questioning looks on departing families and couldn't help but smile at the absurdity of it all.

A couple of hours later, after saying goodbye to one of her patient's mother, she'd found herself looking over the bay windows to the park that bordered the center. Happy was sitting in his chair while the other bikers surrounded him. She noted that he was wearing his vest which she has since learned was called a cut. She had learned a lot about motorcycle clubs in the last few days, after spending several evenings browsing the internet and researching. She wasn't sure why she did it but since he wasn't talking to her, she had no other resort to try and understand where he came from. As she observed from afar, she also noticed he looked much more relaxed that he had been since he had been there. His shoulders weren't as tense. He wasn't talking, he wasn't smiling, but he looked… at ease.

"You know they brought him a bottle of whiskey? Guess that's a biker's version to the latest best seller."

Jo looked over to see Jackie standing by her side. She was one of the only ones who had been able to approach Happy even if she admitted he wasn't much of a talker. But as it happened, Jackie liked to do the talking so it worked.

"How do you…"

"Clarisse confiscated it." Clarisse was the hospital receptionist and she was not a woman to be tampered with. Jo had no problem picturing her giving the bikers the evil eye while she took the bottle. "It's almost five. You're going to tell them it's time for them to leave or you want me to do it?"

"I'll go."

A few minutes later, gathering up her courage she had made her way towards the bikers. As they'd noticed her walking to them, they'd suddenly straightened up, twelve pair of eyes flying to her. In fact, the only one who wasn't looking at her was of course, Happy. She could even swear she'd seen his shoulders tense again as she approached.

She felt like a wounded gazelle crawling into a lion's den as she felt their eyes on her, perusing her body as if it was on sale and they weren't even being discreet about it. It made her glad the scrubs were nothing if not unflattering. Somehow, she still found the ability to move towards them.

"Hello gentlemen, I'm sorry to be a spoilt sport but visiting hours are almost over. If you want to make your way out, I'll take Happy back to his room."

"I wish she was taking _me_ back to my room, brother." She heard one of them say. He had eerie blue eyes which contrasted with his dark curly hair. She wasn't sure if he'd meant for her to hear but they all chuckled at that.

A blond one with a killer smile and hypnotic blue eyed and seemed younger than the rest admonished them. "Boys, behave." He took a few steps towards her grinning. "Don't mind him darlin', he's got self control issues, we'll be right out"

She had been about to object to what seemed to be a term of endearment for them but in the end she decided to let it go. Instead, she just smiled and moved back a few steps giving them space to say goodbye. She watched as one by one, the man hugged Happy each whispering words of encouragements to him before walking away. As the last of them, a tall muscular one with blond spiky hair and a tattoo on his neck walked by her with a goodbye nod, Jo made her way to Happy. Instead of wheeling him back to his room, she thought she'd take the opportunity to try and talk to him outside of the remit of room seventy four. Obviously, she should have known better.

*******SOA*******

"Yeah? Did you also hear about him calling me a nosy bitch who should know her place before asking me to get the fuck out of his face?"

Samson tried hard to suppress a chuckle but not hard enough. She shoved him playfully. "That is NOT funny, Samson. He's such a dick! He is so… frustrating. Most of the guys we deal with would kill for a chance to walk again! Kill! He has it and he's just too stubborn to do anything about it."

Samson knew her enough to know that sometimes she needed to vent her frustrations. It was why he'd known he'd found her here. He just nodded in agreement "I know."

"I should just give up now and let him be."

Again, he nodded his agreement. "You probably should."

She let out a long sigh and sat on a nearby bench. "Except I can't. I still want to help him Samson. Even if he is being an asshole about it. I just, I'm lost. I really don't know what to do. I mean I have dealt with difficult patients before but he's just not giving me any in."

It was true. Dealing with difficult patients, patients who were resisting treatment was part of their job. A big part of it. Those people came with no idea of how they fit in the world anymore. Their whole life had changed in the blink of an eye and they had to learn how to do everything again. Easy was not part of the vocabulary around here. Jo knew difficult, she did difficult. But those were also patients with whom she could use traditional methods; group and individual counseling, therapy and anti-anxiolytics usually did wonders. But that wasn't going to work with a pissed off biker who looked about to murder someone at anytime.

He sat next to her making the bench move slightly and turned to her with the smile of someone in the know._ "I know of no higher fortitude than stubbornness in the face of overwhelming odds."_

Jo gave him a sassy look as she removed the straps from her hands revealing bruised knuckles from banging on the bag. She stretched out her fingers several times, wincing at the pain. "Was that supposed to inspire me or something?"

"It's a quote." He explained.

"I figured. It's also vague and not helpful at all. "

He shrugged. "It's just something our coach used to tell us before a difficult game."

"Please tell me you're not expecting me to use quotes to motivate a violent biker with anger issues."

"Actually the quote is for you. You got this Jo"

"I do?" she asked in a playful tone.

"You've done it hundreds of times before. You just got to find a way to make him listen. Sometimes it's not in the method, sometimes it's in the delivery."

"Please tell me that isn't something else your coach used to tell you."

"Maybe" he cackled. "Listen you should go home and get some ice on those hands of yours. Tomorrow is another day."

"If you say so."

"Now I am going to go get my freak on. " He stood up, making a small dance move . "Sure you don't want to join?"

She couldn't suppress a laugh. "Another time maybe."

She watched him leave with a smile on her face. She loved Samson. He was always there to help when she was feeling down. And lately that had been happening a lot, she though with a sigh. She needed to take a shower, clear her head and look at this with a new perspective. Maybe after downing a bottle of wine. As she stood to leave, she found herself thinking back to what Samson had told her about the delivery and she felt the beginning of an idea form in her mind.

A few minutes later, she was walking back into Norwood. She went straight for the reception hoping Clarisse was gone home for the day which would mean she had been replaced by Vin, the night shift who was much more malleable than Clarisse.

She bent over the counter, flashing him her best smile. "Hey Vin. Still have that bottle of whiskey Clarisse confiscated today?"

He threw her a suspicious look. "Maybe. Why?"

"I need it."

"You know I can't let you bring it in here."

"Come on Vin, I promise you that no one will find out."

"What am I supposed to tell Clarisse if she asks where it's gone?"

"Shrug and pretend you don't know?" He gave her a look and she tried a smile again. "Please Vin, I'll owe you one."

He sighed and opened a file cabinet behind him before handing the bottle over. "You better remember that next time_ I_ need a favor."

"You got it" she replied before hurrying down the hallway. As she reached Happy's room, she took a few seconds to watch him as he absent mindedly flicked through channels with the remote.

"Come on girl you can do this." She whispered to herself before knocking onto his door with one hand as she kept her other hand, the one holding the bottle in her back.

He turned around startled and as soon as he spotted her, his dark brown eyes drilled into her as he turned the TV off. He growled. "Jesus Fucking Christ, you don't give up do you? Don't you have a man waiting for you at home? Kids? A fuckin' dog?

"Nope, it's just me." She grinned. "Come on, Happy just hear me out, alright? I know you want to be left alone and that's fine. I'm not here to talk about your treatment or your recovery. I just thought you could use some company. She raised her hand showing off the bottle in her hand.

"That the bottle my brothers brought with them?"

That was probably the first sentence he said to her that didn't incorporate the word fuck or one of its synonym. If that wasn't progress, she didn't know what was.

"As a matter of fact, it is. I figured we could share it."

"I ain't the sharing type."

"No shit."

He threw her a look as if he was surprised to hear her swear. She flashed him a knowing smile and took another step in the room. "Look I'll make you a deal, you don't have to talk to me if you don't want to. We can just… sit in silence. Or watch TV. Or maybe I can tell you about me. Wathever you want. Best case scenario you actually have a good time and realise I'm not so bad after all, worst case scenario you get to drink some of the good stuff and then I'll leave."

He didn't answer but he didn't ask her to leave either which she took as a good sign. She opened the bottle and looked around for a glass. She spotted an empty one on his bedside table and poured some of the amber liquid before having it over to him. He begrudgingly took it while she pulled a chair and sat next to him. She watched him take the glass to his mouth and smell the whiskey before downing it in one go. She took the bottle to her mouth and took a swig before she poured him another glass.

"What happened to your hands?"

It took her a second to register he was actually talking to her. Looking down at her knuckles, she let out a self derisive laugh. "Working out my frustration on a bag."

"You box?"

"He says with a surprised tone." she scoffed. "Yes, actually, I do. Kickboxing to be exact."

"If you're bruising, you ain't doing it right."

"Thanks for the insight." she retorted. "Like I said, I was working out my frustrations; I wasn't exactly paying attention to the technique."

And then they were silent again but somehow for the first time since she had met him, Jo didn't think it was such a bad thing. And that was due to the fact that she'd noticed that his shoulders weren't tense anymore. Small victories and all. It wasn't much but she thought it was a start.

*******SOA*******

_Well, this is it folks, I had to cut the flashbacks here but There will be more as the story moves forward notably with Happy's pov. I re-wrote the last scene several times as I was trying to stay true to Happy's character I would love to read feedback about it so please don't be shy!_

_I also apologise for the delay in posting this but life is very busy at the moment but to everyone reading my other stories as well, I will try my very best to post a new chapter on each of them this week._

_And finally the quote that Samson recites is from Louis Nizer_


	5. Stubborn little bitch

_Thanks again so much for all the reviews/favs./ follows and for those who are reading the story. I can't believe this story has moved beyond 100 followers so fast, you guys are incredible and the response to the story is really helping me as I write so thank you again. I hope you enjoy this chapter!_

**CHAPTER V**

**Stubborn little bitch**

**DAY 1**

It was always the same dream. Night after night. Some small details change here and there, but it was always the same sequence of events. It always started the same way, it always ended the same way and she was always there, singing her soft song, an eerie, delicate presence haunting him.

_He was riding on a deserted road. The dark night enclosing him was suffocating. He had been on the road in the dead of the night hundreds of times, but something was wrong with this landscape. He didn't know where he was or why but this wasn't where he was supposed to be. He accelerated wanting to get away from this place as fast as possible when she appeared in the middle of the road, a calm figure standing still, illuminated by his headlight. He swerved to avoid her and felt himself lose all control over his Harley as it slid to its side. The monster machine carried him for a hundred yards before coming to a halt. As he came back to his senses, he tried to push the bike of off him but he was stuck, unable to move. He craned his neck to look back at the road to see her but she was gone. _

_Suddenly, the weight of the bike was gone and he looked down at his leg and realised the Harley had disappeared, vanished. He sat up, his head going left and right to try and understand what had happened to his bike but it was nowhere to be seen. He stood up in a flash, trying to understand what the fuck was happening. He scanned the deserted road but it was completely empty. With the headlight of his bike, he couldn't shit anyway._

_That's when he heard it. The soft melody of a lullaby reaching him, guiding him to her. He let it, walking in the blinding darkness with no idea where he was headed other than the unexplainable conviction he needed to find her. As he walked, he felt a pinch on his chest, he rubbed his hand on the pain area and realised his hands were wet, as he looked at the dark liquid, he caught a whiff of a smell that was very familiar to him, it was a smell he had relished in for many years, a smell that had become like an old friend to him, it was the smell of fresh blood. Panicked, he stopped walking and lifted his tee-shirt but his skin was intact, there was no open wound, nothing to explain the amount of blood he'd felt on his hands. He looked up and noticed a flicker of light on the side of the road from where the soft melody was still coming. He started running towards it, he needed to know what was going on, he needed to understand what was happening to him. He noticed the flames and the smoke before he saw the car. Or what was left of it. It was flipped over on its roof, the windshield and every window memories laying in million pieces on the ground. The soft melody stopped and that's when he saw her. She was stuck upside down, the seat belt almost chocking her at the neck. She locked eyes with him as silent tears fell from her eyes. She was talking to him, but he couldn't make out the words she was saying._

_As he made a move to reach her, his legs failed him, unable to hold him anymore and he fell to the floor. He tried to stand up but it was if his body wasn't responding anymore. He heard something crack and he noticed that a small fire had caught behind the car and was steadily spreading around the car. He tried to scream words of warning at her but no sound came out of his throat. She held out a begging hand to him and he extended his, using all the strength he had to try and crawl to her but he felt the pinch again. Looking down to his chest, he saw a blood stain darken the front of his tee shirt growing bigger and bigger. He tried to look back at her but she was gone. He was alone again. He pushed himself onto his back facing the dark skies as he closed his eyes succumbing to the darkness._

Happy jerked awake as his eyes shot open, taking in short, shaky breaths. He tried to move but he couldn't feel anything. He felt his breathing accelerate again as he tried his hardest to sit up but he couldn't move his arms. He forced a little and realised his hands were restrained. He was about to scream when it hit him like a brick in the face. It was the same thing every night since it happened. Every time, he woke up, it took him a few seconds to remember. Remember where he was, why and what had put him there. He let his head fall back on his pillow. As his breathing started returning to normal, he felt the sting in his eyes and admonished himself. "Stop being a pussy man. It's just a fucking dream."

But as he said the words, he knew that the tears he felt on his face weren't due to the dream and the torment it brought upon him. Happy Lowman wasn't the type of men who cried. In fact, he could count on his hand the number of times he'd shed a tear in his life and all of them had been because of the woman who gave birth to him. The last time he had cried was for his ma's funeral a couple of years ago. Even then, he'd waited until he was alone in the darkness of his dorm room to let himself grieve for his beloved mother. He was almost glad she was dead so she couldn't see what had become of her strong, fearless son. As he contemplated his life, powerless and with no purpose, unable to ride, unable to even walk, for the first time in his life, under the cover of the darkness Happy wept for himself.

*******SOA*******

**DAY 3**

Stubborn fucking bitch. For three days, he'd been trying to get her to get lost and leave him the fuck alone and she just kept coming for more. She was showing up in his room twice a day at this point, trying to make some kind of contact. He had to hand it to her, bitch didn't give up easy. All he wanted though was for her to leave him the fuck alone. For everyone to leave him the fuck alone. He'd heard the doctors, he wasn't stupid. Truth was, they didn't have a fucking clue. Kept throwing statistics and big words at him as if he was some kind of moron. It pissed him off good but reality was they had no idea if he would ever walk again. He'd seen the look on their faces to, judging him, probably thinking he deserved everything he got. And maybe he did, maybe with all mad shit he'd done over the years, this was some kind of cosmic pay back. Karma and shit. Maybe it was time for him to reap what he sew.

After he freaked out at the hospital, they had to sedate him to calm him down. When he'd woken up and the doctor had established that he was calm enough to hear things, they'd let him ask all the questions that gnawed at him, although they had some ass hat in wait with restraints in case he lost it again. They'd tried to sugar coat his situation, telling him he was still alive, and how people went on to lead normal lives in a chair. They didn't get it. They didn't understand that unless he was wearing a cut and riding a Harley, there was no normal for him.

They had tried to tell him he was depressed, sending that pompous asshole into his room, trying to get him to talk about his fucking feelings, asking him how he felt about not being able to walk. What kind of moronic question was that? What did he possibly think the answer to that would be? I'm ecstatic that I can't fucking walk? Oh, he hadn't anticipated Happy's response that was for sure. The color had literally drained from his face when Hap had started describing in vivid details what he would do to him, his bitch and his fucking if he ever came within a ten foot radius of him. He'd ran out of the room like a scared little pussy.

All those doctors and health professionals, they think they all knew what was going on in his head, they thought they understood, but they didn't. No fucking book, or conference would ever be able to explain what it was like. Until you were stuck in bed, unable to fucking use the bathroom on your own, unable to get it up, having to rely on someone else to do anything; until you're faced with that reality you couldn't possibly understand. Happy was very aware of his reality. There was no going back for him. Even if by some miracle, he managed to get back to his feet, his body would never be the same again and he would never ride a bike. He didn't need some asshole with an MD to tell him, he could feel it in every bone of his body. Well at least the one he could still feel. Riding again wasn't an option.

His thoughts were interrupted by the wise cracker nurse who'd been coming with his meds three times a day. She took his chart from the bottom of his bed. Sliding her reading glasses on, she croaked "Morning handsome. How are we doing this morning?"

She had the voice of someone who's had too many cigarettes in her lifetime and that was coming from someone who sounded like gravel at the best of times. She jotted down some notes on the chart and approached him. He knew she hadn't been expecting an answer. It had been clearly established from his first day in this hell hole that there wouldn't be too much talking where he was concerned.

"Alright, let check that blood pressure shall we? Relax your arm and your fist." She commanded as she strapped the cuff of the blood monitor on his arm.

After getting the reading she needed, she took it off. "You're as strong as a horse. I'll take your bloods and get out of your hair." She took out a syringe and three vials from her pocket.

This was their usual morning routine. blood pressure, blood tests, and pain meds. She held out a foam ball to him. "Here hold this in a tight fist." she ordered as she located a vein in his arm. He felt a slight pinch as she introduced the needle but she was quick to place in the first vial.

"Heard you went off on our lovely Jo again." She chuckled as the blood filled the vials "You know, most people would have probably given up by now. She's a stubborn one that one."

"No shit."

She arched her eyebrows in mock surprise. "He talks. I knew there was someone in there." She removed the last vial of blood before taking out a small cotton ball and a plaster from her cart. "Alright, we're almost done and you can go back to the muted silence you seem to like so much."

He wasn't sure what it was about the woman, why he hadn't sent her packing like he had the others. First of all, it was probably because she was the one in charge of pain medication and he wasn't that shit crazy. But also, there was something in her demeanor, in the way she approached him that reminding him of his ma. So as long as she didn't cross any lines, he was good with her.

She walked back to her cart, taking out three pills. "She comes on strong but she's real damn good at what she does, I'll tell you that much. Here, got you some of the good stuff. "

He took then from her hand as she poured him a glass of water. "All done. I'll be back later for the night round."

He heard himself voice. "I need something stronger to sleep. Shit you been giving me ain't doing nothin'." He didn't like admitting that the pain was getting the best of him but he had been unable to find any rest in the last few days and he didn't know how long he'd last on no sleep.

She didn't even blink. Probably heard worst shit than a biker admitting he was in pain. Still made him feel weak though. But then, he'd been feeling like a lot since it happened.

"I'll speak to the doctor, see what he can do for that."

Happy nodded his thanks and the old nurse took it as her cue before living him alone. She was alright, that old broad. She talked damn too much for her own good but she knew her place. Did what she had to do and for the most part left him the fuck alone, minded her own fucking business. Not like the other one.

*******SOA*******

**Day 5**

Happy sucked on the cigarette as if it was his last one. It was the first smoke he'd had since the accident. Not that he'd missed it that much. But it gave him something to do right now. Other than talking. Not that people usually expected a lot of that from him but still.

He should have been relieved. He should have been happy. But he was neither of those things. All he felt was shame. He had been known as the Tacoma killer for more than fifteen years. Ever since he'd made his first kill for the club, five years into his patch. His reputation extended across charters as one of the toughest members, the one people called onto when they needed things done, things no one else could stomach. His ability to torture, interrogate and break down the hardest sons of bitches was recognized and he was respected from the west coast to the east coast for it. Now he had to sit in a fucking chair and be wheeled by one of his brothers in arms through a fucking park.

It made him feel weak and useless. It made him feel ashamed. He had been reluctant to have them visit but Kozik had insisted and he 'd showed up with all the Charming brothers. The blond asshole had given him his old marine bullshit about not _leaving a man behind_. From what he understood, Quinn and a few others from neighboring charters had offered to come by but Jax had managed to keep them at bay. At least for now. Happy was grateful for that. He didn't want people to see him like this, especially not other charters.

Last thing he wanted was his brothers, people who'd always looked up at him with respect and even for some, fear, start to feel sorry for him or worse trying to pretend that it was all going to be okay, that the chair he found himself bound to was something temporary, that he would be back to being the Killer and that it was all just a fucking question of time. As if their guns and cuts were going to protect his ass from what was coming. A life of being helped to do anything. Yes, they were all _pretending_ because in reality they knew the score. He could it see every time one of them visited. None of them could hold his gaze, look at him dead in the eye. They knew he wouldn't be coming back to the clubhouse. Not when he would never be able to vote again, be a fully fledged SAMCRO member. He wasn't sure what was worse, the pity or the pretense. But what he did know is he wanted this day to end. He nodded towards the duffle bag that Jax was holding."What's that?"

Jax smiled while he exhaled a long cloud a smoke. That's for you package is from Gemma. Had to practically restrain her to keep her ass in Charming. She wants to make sure you're being taken good care of. We brought you a bottle of the good stuff but…"

Tig interrupted the president, spitting "Still can't believe that snotty bitch took that. I paid good money for that bottle."

Juice raised a questioning eyebrow "Didn't you take it from the clubhouse?"

Tig retorted slapping the back of his head."Shut up, asshole."

"Ay, we'll try and smuggle some more next time." Chibs suggested trying to stop the hostilities.

Tig turned around to his old rival with a smirk. "Hey, maybe Kozik can put it his pants. We know he's got room."

"Blow me, Tig. My old lady ain't complaining."

"That's because she doesn't know any better."

Hearing all the banter flow almost freely, an outsider could almost believe they were just as they'd always been. Brothers ripping into each others for good fun. But there was a nervousness about it all that they were all too aware of. A bottle of whiskey sure as hell would have been welcome right now.

Kozik interrupted his thoughts. "She sends her best, but the way. Was pretty hard to convince her not to come."

Kozik had left the Charming Charter and transferred back to Tacoma three years ago, after the deal with the cartel had proved to be way more than they'd signed up. Narrowingly avoiding a cruel death by landmines, he had decided he needed out of Charming and away from the drug running that SAMCRO had managed to get themselves into. He'd met Karen Fox at a club function. She was the Rogue River President's daughter and after a nasty divorce she had returned to Oregon to lick her wounds, her kid in tow. Instead she'd met Kozik. She was fiercely loyal, kind hearted and very soon she became the balance he had been looking for, for years and he'd transferred to the Oregon charter. Three years on, he was now the Rogue River VP and would likely become president when Ernie Fox would retire.

Karen had been the one who'd found him a spot in Norwood after he'd been kicked out of that other shitty place. According to her and Kozik, this was one of the best facilities in the West Coast and it was ideally located so that Rogue River, which meant mainly Kozik and herself, could keep a distant eye on him while he was there. It was also close enough for the Charming boys to make the trip. Truth was Happy liked Karen. She was a solid old lady and a great mum. She knew her place. She was exactly what Kozik needed and he could see the change she had brought in his old friend. He knew she was trying to help finding him this spot here but he was glad to know that as long as Kozik told her to stay away she would. He wasn't sure he could count on Gemma Teller for the same. But that was another beast entirely.

Happy turned his attention back to Jax, hoping to change the conversation to the only thing that still mattered to him, the only reason he still found the strength to wake up in the morning. "Where are we at?"

Jax's eyes darted from Chibs and Kozik before he spoke again. "We're still looking brother. He's gone under. No one's seen or heard from in weeks. "

Kozik chimed in. "We've got every charter keeping an eye out for him, if anyone hears or see anything they know to tell us. He'll crawl out of his hole at some point and we'll be right there to get him."

Happy had not stopped looking at his President. He narrowed his dark eyes on him. "He's mine. I don't care about anyone else, but when you find him, he needs to be mine."

Jax nodded as if that was a given. "You got it brother."

Happy held his stare until he heard Bobby whistles under his breath. "Oh, m… would you look at that?"

Tig licked his lower lip suggestively as his eyes filled with lust. "Happy brother, can't believe you didn't tell us about the piece of ass you had here."

Happy didn't need to turn around to know who they were talking about. Hearing her voice a few seconds later only confirmed it. It was her. _Stubborn bitch._ He wasn't sure why but he was glad his back was to her, he really didn't want to be in her presence in front of his brothers. "Hello gentlemen, I'm sorry to be a spoilt sport but visiting hours are almost over. If you want to make your way out, I'll take Happy back to his room."

"I wish she was taking _me_ back to my room, brother." Tig uttered drawing soft chuckles from his brothers. Happy was surprised to see the blue eyed man show some restrain. At least, coming from Tig that _was_ restrained.

Happy watched as Jax cleared his throat with a grin directed at her. "Boys, behave." He took a few steps towards her. "Don't mind him darlin', he's got self control issues, we'll be right out"

Happy didn't hear her response so he turned slightly. It was enough to see her walk away, leaving them some space to say their goodbyes. It was Tig who approached him first, plastering a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes on his face. "Hey, maybe you can see what Blondie there thinks about bikers? You know, suss her out?

Hap shook his head in mock annoyance as Tig caressed his head and laid a kiss on it. "We'll see you soon brother."

Not a lot of people who could do that to him. But this was Tig. The two of them always shared a bond, a connection that went deeper than the brotherhood. It was the same with Kozik and with Jax. Hap felt a lump in his throat as one by one his brothers said goodbye to him, each giving him their own brand of encouragement. Kozik shook his hand before giving him a pound hug. Happy met his eyes as he pulled away. "Tell Karen I said thanks."

"Tell her yourself. Because you and I both know, there's no fucking way I'm going to be able to keep her away from this place forever." Kozik admitted with a grin. "Not unless I still want access to her pussy that is."

Happy spotted Juice lingering behind and caught his eye motioning him over. The mohawked man rummaged through his pocket before removing a folded piece of paper. "I got the info you asked for." He stated as he handed it to him. "Let me know if you need anything else."

"Thanks Juice."

Juice attempted a smile. "You're welcome."

Jax was the last one to say goodbye. He bend over hugging Happy. "Alright, brother. You take care. I'll be back soon."

As he stood up, Happy kept his president hand in his and with his other hand, he took out the patch he had painstakingly removed from his cut that morning and placed them in Jax's palm. "You should take this."

Jax's face went from incredulity to quiet anger in a second. "What the fuck, Hap? This is your patch. I ain't replacing you."

Happy gritted his teeth. Was he really going to make him say it? Was he going to stand there and deny the reality that was hitting them in the god damn face? "I'm in a fucking wheelchair Jax. You need a SAA. Someone who'll protect you with his life. I can't do that." Jerking his head towards Tig who was chatting away with the others he added calmly. "He can."

Jax clenched his jaws shaking his head in disbelief at Happy's suggestion. "Nah man, that ship has sailed. That spot is yours. Unless we bury your dark skinned ass into the ground, that seat is yours." Trying to regain some calm, Jax took a deep breath, looking at the patch in his gloved hand. "Tell you what, I'm going to keep this for you. It'll be waiting for you along with your seat."

Knowing he wasn't going to win that fight with his president, Happy simply nodded and watched as his president joined the others and they made their way out.

A few instant later, he heard her footsteps on the gravel. As she reached him, he smelled her perfume. It was something odd. It wasn't the kind of perfume you expected on a woman, certainly not a woman like her. Musky, sultry, shit he didn't even know why he cared. She smelled nice, so what. She was still a fucking pain in his ass.

"You're ready."

He grunted a response and it seemed to be enough as she started to wheel him away but instead of going back in direction of the center, she walked deeper into the park.

"Fuck are you going Doc? My room is in the other direction."

They reached a bench and she stopped wheeling, pushing on the brakes as she turned around and sat in front of him. "First of all, I'm not a doctor, I'm a physical therapist, you don't have to call me Doc. Second of all, I thought we could take a few minutes and talk outside."

"Fucking hell."

"Or not. If you don't want to. I can cover both sides of the conversation. I'm getting good at that."

He rolled his eyes, refusing to engage her. Last thing that stubborn bitch needed was encouragement.

She bore her eyes into him, fishing out that professional smile she never seemed to lose. "Happy, You and I seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot but I'm really trying to help you. And I can. I'm good at what I do. I can help you with the physical pain and the body part Samson can help you with the practical part but neither of us can do what we do if you don't let us.

She stopped talking which he knew was taking an effort as she waited for him to respond in any way to what she had just said. She suddenly frowned and pointed to his cut "What happened to your cut?

He growled "What?"

She pointed again, showing the very spot where barely hours ago he had teared off the Sergeant at Arms patch to give it back to Jax. "Your cut? It's missing something, isn't it? It was there this morning."

"Who the fuck do you think you are? Asking fucking questions that are none of your goddamn business!"You're a fucking grunt who earns a living with a nine to five job dealing with fucked up cripples . You just want an excuse to go home and tell your husband what a good person you are so he can fuck his perfect little wife and continue to be happy with this sad life. Well fuck that. This isn't about me, you don't fucking known the first thing about me so stop acting like you do. You want to help doc, you really want to help? How about you stop being a nosey bitch and get the fuck out my face!"

He had to stop himself to catch his breath. He was enraged, the veins in his neck throbbing violently against his skin, his hands were clenching his chair as if to help contain his anger. He glared at her but still she he didn't back down. She just glared right back. He could tell she was humiliated. The red cheeks she was sporting told him as much. She was pissed too, he could see it in the way she was biting the inside of her mouth probably drawing blood, trying to control herself, her nostrils flaring as she tried to breath steadily.

He was waiting for her to explode. Or cry. or both. No one had so much self control to let the talking to he just gave her roll off their backs as if nothing. Especially not bitches. So he waited. But it didn't come. Instead he saw her eyes dart behind him seconds before he heard a voice he knew behind him. Kozik's. "Hap."

He hadn't heard him come back behind them. He wondered how much of that he just heard but then he realised he didn't give a flying fuck. He didn't say another word letting the awkward silence sink in between them.

It was Kozik who was the first to break it. "Doc, maybe it's best if I take him back to his room? I'll be off in a minute.

She stood up slowly as if an invisible rod had suddenly taken control of her spine. her whole body had tensed up. "Sure. I'll see you later Happy. "

The words that were for his attention were pronounced with a clear edge but other than that she had had perfect control over herself. _Stubborn little bitch._

*******SOA*******

**Day 6**

He wasn't sure what it was. He didn't know why it had come to him only this morning. Maybe it was because he finally had been able to get some sleep, the effect of the alcohol helping to numb the dark thoughts in his mind. Maybe it was because by giving back his SAA patch to Jax , he had finally admitted that that part of his life was over. Maybe it was because the stars aligned or who the fuck knows. He refused to believe that it was anything to do with the stubborn bitch who'd refused to get off his case since he'd arrived at Norwood.

But when he woke up in the morning, he felt something new and he knew he had to get out of his bed. So after the orderlies helped him shower and shit, he had asked the nurse, Jackie was her name, to call the fat black dude. After explaining a few things about the chair, Samson had helped him from the bed and onto it and helped him into the main rehabilitation room which was where Happy now was observing everything that was going on. They were all sorts of people in front of him. Old, young, some kids. Men and women. Some had lost legs or arms. Some couldn't even move an inch and communicated by blinking. Most were in wheelchairs though. He observed as some were playing a game of basketball in a court behind the main gym on chairs that looked nothing like Hap's, some were working out on weight machines, others were trying out new limbs with a smile on their face. Their was a buzzing energy in the room but as Happy's presence started to get noticed, it seemed to come to a quiet halt for an quick moment before everyone went back to their occupation.

Obviously, his reputation preceded him. Happy had to fight the urge to wheel himself out of there. But then he remembered he barely knew how to handle that thing. He wouldn't make it past the doors. If he was stuck in this chair, he at least needed to learn how to do things for himself. He wasn't going to be able to handle some sad fuck helping him to shower and to the fucking bathroom much longer.

Regardless of his chances, regardless of his future, there was something he needed to do , the one thing that would need to keep him going, he though as he looked over the paper Juice gave him the day before, he needed to make him pay. Make them all pay.

The double doors separating the gym area from the corridor opened and she was there, looking flushed. As he took her in, he noticed she wasn't wearing her usual scrubs, but instead she was sporting running clothes under a rain jacket. She looked at him for the longest moment until he finally broke the silence, grumbling. "So what? You gonna to stand here watching me all day Doc?"

She flashed him a huge smile and shook her head as she removed her jacket. " Let's get started."

_Thanks again for reading. Next chapter, we'll get back to present time Jo and Happy but there will be other flashbacks as we go along._

_Please let me know what you think I always love reading you!_


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